The Budapest Situation
by Heaven's Archer
Summary: "You and I remember Budapest very differently." An imagining of a mission gone slightly south with three of SHIELD's best.


_**The Budapest Situation.**_

The whole mission was supposed to go down fast and clean. The Op was simple.

The Location: A high profile dinner for some of the biggest contributors to the country's economy.

The Target: Atilla Baranyi. The head of the Baranyi family. Considered the Mob of Hungary.

The Aim: Get the information and keep eyes on the target and his people at all times. _('Just in case he liked the idea of producing some red that wasn't in the usual decor', Clint murmured morbidly.)_

The Plan: Natasha would run eyes on the ground, making her way over to the target. She would then use her date as an in (or less easily accessed information if the situation called for it) and fish for the intel they _hoped _ Atilla had on some human trafficking going on between the borders. Clint would make his way in under his guise and make his way to a predetermined vantage point where he could keep eyes on the target from a distance and take him out remotely if required. Phil would be keeping an eye on things via hacked security feeds, satellite and heat imaging.

Natasha had gone in undercover as the +1 of a mining giant who obviously didn't get much attention from women, if the week it took to charm him was anything to go by. (_Though Clint knew it was probably just Nat. She could be...highly persuasive. Not that he would know.) _ Clint had slipped in as a waiter at a smaller party that was happening across the street. (_He'd smirked slightly as he adjusted his bow tie. 'I clean up good, huh?' Phil and Natasha couldn't find any way to disagree.)_

They slipped in the ear pieces and hid their mics and weapons before making their way in. _(Clint complained to Nat that she had it far too easy, as she slipped a small gun into a thigh holster and various knifes into position on her person, including one down her bra. 'I have to make a big deal of carrying my bow in a case disguised as a food delivery and you can hide yours despite a dress with a slit to your, admittedly very tempting, underwear!' _

_'Well, that's what you get for liking the long range.' _

_'Hey, just think, without me you could be stuck with one of those guys from Handem's team.' _

_'...That's true. Never change.' She offered one of her rare, teasing grins and patted him on the head, leaving him to pout.)_

Nat was off to her rendezvous point with her date for the night while Clint swept into the kitchen, already swearing up a storm as he helped out at various stations before taking the 'food' up towards a balcony on one of the upper floors and bunkering down, bow strung and arrow hanging loosely from his fingers. The constant stream of chatter from Natasha's mic as she charmed various high profile members of society dulled the boredom slightly. But not enough. _('I swear, Barton. If I have to tell you one more time to maintain radio silence I am going to put a bullet through your eye.' _

'_You know you love me, Coulson. I complete you.')_

Then it all went to hell. Clint didn't see what it was, Coulson hadn't seen it as a risk, but suddenly an old mark called a different alias loudly as he approached Natasha. She muttered curses in Russian quietly, already making excuses to her date (_That man is obviously drunk. Who is he_?), but the damage was already done and Attila's men appeared out of nowhere, grabbing for guns as Natasha whipped out her own and shot 3 down with 3 bullets, turning and moving for an agreed exit point.

Clint could hear Coulson's frenzied typing as he watched the scene through the cameras, trying to figure out how to get them all out of there (_That was always Phil's job. Clint and Natasha had a bad habit of forgetting they had to manage to leave after completing the mission.)_. Clint had stopped cracking jokes and snarking over the radio as soon as Natasha had been compromised; instead he had his bowstring pulled taut and was breathing evenly as he aimed his arrow at a high stakes target.

'Eyes on Lucio,' Clint murmured as he narrowed in on the known arms dealer they already had figured out the contacts and operations for. They no longer needed him.

'Take it.' As soon as the words left Coulson's lips, the arrow was wizzing through the air, silent yet deadly, before it pierced through Lucio's left eye. He fell.

As Natasha continued leading the men's forces on a merry chase, Clint picked off the men themselves, his mind clear and eyes focused. Phil split his focus, knowing that they could both easily take care of themselves but needing to make sure they weren't going to counteract each other (_That had happened once in Beijing, when Clint had shot a target Natasha had been planning to use to get away. That one had been messy.)_

Clint sent a few arrows whizzing into the bodies of some of Attila's muscle, giving Natasha more breathing room as they fell lifeless to the ground.

'Nice shooting there, Barton. Knew there was a reason I kept you around.' Natasha murmured as she ducked down another corridor.

'Always knew I was only here for my shooting. You wound me, Tasha. Here I was thinking you liked having me around.' Clint quipped back as he moved to a different position to cover her exit.

'If you two are done, you can continue when you are debriefed back at base.' Phil interrupted, but the smirk in his voice was evident.

'You only keep us around so you don't get blood on your nice suits.' Clint chuckled lowly, releasing another arrow as Natasha slipped a knife between one of her pursuer's ribs.

'And don't you forget that, Barton. You can both be replaced.'

'But then you'd have all this paper work and red tape and, you know, having to retrain two new agents…'

Natasha leapt the gap from a balcony onto the next roof, somersaulting and rolling, jumping up and jumping down the gap between two buildings as soon as the men fell behind enough. She ducked into the hotel and calmly entered the elevator which brought her up to the room Phil had all their equipment set up.

Clint shed the waiter's uniform so he was just in his standard black get up, using a grapple arrow to lower himself to the ground in a darkened alleyway and keeping to shadows as he moved quickly up the side of their hotel and climbed in through the window Natasha opened for him.

'Verdict?' Natasha asked, cleaning her knives as she leant back against Clint.

Phil sighed, 'Didn't get the information we wanted, but some of the 'small talk' contained information about a few other operations SHIELD has been looking at around Europe. You left….quite the blood trail there, Romanoff.'

'They probably looked at her a little too long.' Clint waggled his eyebrows and laughed as he ducked the hilt of Natasha's knife.

'That was much more difficult than it was supposed to be…' Natasha murmured, letting her dress drop to the floor and pulling on the sweatshirt Clint handed her before leaning back and letting Clint rub at her shoulders.

'Wasn't that bad,' the archer murmured.

Natasha turned and raised an eyebrow, thinking about the amount she was outnumbered as she ran through the corridors.

'…Well I had a nice view of the skyline.' Clint said with a small smirk as Phil finished relaying the mission's outcome to Fury.

'We are good to go. Let's get this packed up.'

XXXX

Natasha and Clint stood side-by-side, firing into the mass of aliens pouring from the sky.

'Just like Budapest all over again,' Natasha spoke up over the sounds of screaming. Remembering being severely outnumbered and running through screaming crowds.

Clint's face twisted into disbelief, 'You and I remember Budapest _very _differently.' As he thought about the skyline as he waited Phil and Natasha's orders.

XXXX

_Crappy ending is crappy. I found this in one of my story folders with 500 or so words in it. I figured completing some of these half done oneshots would be a nice way to beat out the writer's block. _


End file.
